


Spanking Malfoy

by AmoretteHD



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Corporal Punishment, M/M, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-10
Updated: 2013-02-10
Packaged: 2017-11-28 19:21:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,491
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/678002
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AmoretteHD/pseuds/AmoretteHD
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Of course, nothing is simple with Draco Malfoy, and Harry wonders why he ever thought it would be.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Spanking Malfoy

**The first time it happened, it was an accident.**

They made it to Harry’s bedroom, and Harry pushed Draco down. He fell onto his stomach on Harry’s bed. A smile broke over Harry’s face; it was amusing to see Draco on his scarlet bed sheets, face pressed into the mattress. Strangely, he did not look out of place. 

“Watch it,” came Draco’s muffled voice. 

Harry grinned. “Too rough for you, Malfoy?”

Draco turned his head and sneered. A moment later, his lips curved upward into a mischievous smirk. “Too rough? Are you kidding, Potter? This is pussy shit.”

“Oh, so you want more?” 

Harry grabbed him by the hips and, with a groan of effort, hoisted Draco onto all fours. He stepped back to admire the view; Draco’s arse in the air, his trousers stretched tightly around it. His heart beating madly, Harry decided that Draco really did have such a nice, grabbable arse. 

A growl escaped from deep in his throat, and he lunged at Draco. He felt the innate urge to grab Draco’s cheeks fully, one in each palm. 

“No,” he muttered. This was not enough. Not over trousers. “Take them off.”

Draco craned his neck back and stared through bright eyes. “Make me.”

Harry grinned. “Fine.”

His body coursed with adrenaline as he battled Draco for his trousers. They struggled, Draco making it difficult for Harry because... well... that’s what he did. Oh, this was so perfect. His heart was pumping, and his blood was flowing, and he sneaked gropes of Draco everywhere as he simultaneously attempted to pin him down long enough to shuck his trousers. 

“Draco,” he breathed. He didn’t know why it slipped out so girly-like, but he knew that his heart was fluttering.

Finally, he managed to strip Draco to his pants. 

“Those, too,” Harry commanded. Draco’s trousers dangled from Harry’s clenched fist, and he threw them on the ground somewhere behind him . 

This time, Draco conceded willingly. He was sitting on his arse, leaning back on his elbows. Gripping the hem of his shirt, he pulled it up around his torso, not even bothering with the buttons. Harry eagerly watched, taking in every bit of skin. When he had pulled his shirt completely off and tossed it aside, Draco looked at Harry and took a moment to catch his breath. There was a shadow of a grin over his parted lips, but mostly he just looked soft and wide-eyed. 

He slowly dragged his hands down his sides, snagging the elastic of his pants in his fingers and drawing them down his legs. His cock sprang up, hard and ready. 

Harry’s heart threatened to pound through his chest as he took in the sight of Draco’s flat stomach, the trail of hair leading down to his groin, and the curls that framed his cock. He was just so beautiful, and Harry suddenly realized that he wanted to look at this very sight every night for the foreseeable future. He wanted to touch. 

Remembering his original goal, Harry looked back up into Draco’s face, which was now flushed pink at the cheeks. 

“Turn around, please.”

A wide grin spread across Draco’s face, and he let out a single burst of laughter. “Are you suddenly polite now? What happened, Potter?” He lowered his chin and looked at Harry through his lashes. “Like what you see?”

Harry should have been annoyed, but he wasn’t. “Very much,”

Draco blinked and his grin fell. He swallowed, and his chest rose and fell more harshly. 

“Turn around.” This time, he was much more firm. 

To his surprise, Draco did not hesitate. In fact, he practically bounced on the mattress in his haste to get on his hands and knees. This time, he was naked. And his arse was completely exposed. 

Harry felt a surge of lust roar through him and land in his groin. Draco’s arse looked much rounder when it wasn’t covered up. He never realized how fucking round and perfect it was. Harry stepped closer, as if drawn to it. He thought he would fall over from sight of Draco’s balls, plump and pink, hanging between his slim thighs. His arse cheeks were spread slightly apart so that Harry caught the tiniest hint of a glimpse. He let out a strangled sigh as he pictured Draco’s arsehole. He simply had to see it. 

Taking each cheek in his bare hands was one of the most satisfying things Harry had ever felt. He heard Draco’s sigh as he squeezed, loving the reaction he could draw out of Draco. Harry decided right then that he was unequivocally an arse man. Everything about Draco’s arse lit a fire inside him that spread throughout his limbs. It was soft, and it bounced in his hands. When he pressed his thumbs into the crevice and spread the cheeks, Draco’s hole was right there, tiny and pink. The thought of pressing his cock into that hole made him feel faint with lust. 

“Draco,” he said, his voice coming out gritty and rough, “I want to fuck you.”

Draco whimpered openly. His only response was to spread his legs wider, opening his arse up even more to Harry’s view. His cheeks bounced, and Harry lightly slapped one with his right hand just to watch it bounce again. 

Suddenly, Draco froze. His whole body tensed up, and he moved his knees closer together. 

Harry’s brow furrowed. “Is something wrong?”

Draco did not speak. He did not move, either, only stayed there in position, his whole body taut and hard again. Harry felt the sick spread of panic start in his stomach. What had happened? 

After what seemed like an eternity, Draco turned his head slightly so that Harry could only see his profile. He raised his chin, and, in a calm, collected voice, said, “Please do not do that.”

“What?”

Draco’s mouth moved for a moment as if he couldn’t find the right words. Finally, he licked his lips and said, “Don’t... don’t spank me, alright?”

“Spank.... I swear, I wasn’t.”

“You just did,” Draco said, sounding edgy. 

Harry didn’t like this sudden change. No, this was absolutely not right. He wanted Draco to go back to being breathless and moany. “I swear, I wasn’t trying to spank you.” He winced. The word alone sounded ridiculous; like something from a corny, schoolgirl porno.

“Alright.” And just like that, it was over. Draco turned a little more and smirked at Harry. “Well, are you going to fuck me or not? I’m beginning to think you’re soft, Potter.”

Confused, and a bit less confident, Harry smiled back. “Stuff it.”

“No,” Draco said raised eyebrows, “ _you_ stuff it.”

After a moment, they both collapsed into silly laughter that should have completely ruined the mood, if there were any mood left after that awkward horribleness. But once Harry touched Draco again, there was nothing awkward about it. That night, they fucked for the first time. 

 

**The second time it happened, it almost hadn’t.**

Harry did not feel the need to tell his friends that he had slept with Draco Malfoy. When they asked him whom he had brought home from the pub, he told them it was some blonde girl whose name he had not bothered to ask. This earned him a laugh from Ron and an eyeroll from Hermione. 

Harry wondered if he would ever see Draco again. He was starting to consider the possibility of Owling him when he heard a tap on his window. An eagle owl was tapping its beak against the glass, a thinly rolled scroll dangling from its clawed foot. Harry pushed up the window pane, grinning as he stepped aside to let the owl swoop in.

They made plans for that very night. 

“Two nights in a row, Malfoy?” Harry teased as he approached Draco at the bar. “You can’t get enough of me?”

Draco raised an eyebrow. “I’m already beginning to wonder why I Owled.” However, the smirk on his face told Harry that he was also teasing. Draco looked really good; his sleek shirt and trousers hugged his body in all the right places, stretching over his chest and fitting snugly around his thighs.

“Because you couldn’t resist,” Harry said, although his cheeks lit up the moment the words left his mouth.

Draco snorted, but there was a small smile on his face. “Wanker. I always knew you were full of yourself.”

It didn’t take long for them to stumble back to Harry’s. They’d only had two drinks each - once on Harry, and once on Draco - before the kissing and public groping began. They decided to call it an early night. 

This time, they didn’t even make it to the bedroom but collapsed on Harry’s sofa. 

Draco straddled him, and Harry gripped his thighs, loving the feel of them in his hands. He was pushed into the sofa by Draco’s comfortable, glorious weight. 

Panting, Draco rolled his hips against Harry’s crotch. “Potter,” he growled over and over, as though to remind himself of whom he was with. 

Harry was burning up, and his cock ached with his need to rut against Draco. His hands snaked up Draco’s thighs of their own accord, reaching behind him to _grip_. He felt as though Draco’s arse belonged in his hands, fit into the contours of his palms, and he sighed in sweet satisfaction. Draco kissed him, and, all the while, Harry played with his arse. He squeezed it between his fingers, kneaded it with his palms. Soon, he was growling in frustration. 

Tugging the waistline of Draco’s trousers, he broke the kiss; when he tilted his head back, Draco kissed his chin.

“Off,” Harry directed, his voice hoarse with need. 

“Whatever you say,” Draco said cheekily, and he lifted his hips, allowing Harry to unbutton and unzip. 

Harry’s cock strained against his jeans, but he ignored it in favor of ripping both trousers and pants off Draco. When he felt Draco’s naked arse in his hands, his whole body seemed to sigh in content.

“Malfoy, I love your arse,” he said. 

Draco ground his arse back into Harry’s palms, sending another rush of feeling to Harry’s groin. His heart pounded, and he felt dizzy. The softness, the skin, the press of thighs and balls and arse cheeks all over Harry’s lap and in his hands....

“Why can’t I - ” Harry let go of Draco’s right cheek, and his hand hovered there, taut and ready to strike. Harry bit his lip, wondered if he should just _do it_ , and finally let out a fierce, defeated growl as his hand dropped helplessly at his side. “Malfoy, I just want to....” He didn’t know how to voice what he wanted without feeling heat rush to his cheeks. 

Draco looked down at him through lidded eyes. He drawled, “You want to _what,_ Potter?” His voice was lazy; every syllable dragged.

“I want to slap your arse.” 

Draco stiffened in Harry’s arms.

“Why not?,” Harry asked, giving Draco’s naked cheeks a tight squeeze. Draco wiggled, his arse moving around in Harry’s hands, and delight sparked in Harry’s chest.

“Stop that,” Draco demanded. When Harry finally stopped teasing him with small pinches and squeezes, Draco settled back down in his lap and gave him a stern look. “You want to spank me.”

Harry lowered his chin and looked to the side, fighting back a shy smile. “Well... I don’t know....”

“You do.” A frown was starting to show on Draco’s lips. “And I’ve already told you no.”

Harry immediately felt his lusty haze vanish. “Alright, fine. I got it.” 

After a moment of silence in which Draco stared at him and Harry avoided eye contact, Harry pulled Draco off his lap and onto the sofa. 

Draco’s face turned white with anger. “Just because I won’t let you spank me, you’re going to throw a fit?”

Harry crossed his arms and stared straight ahead. “I’m not throwing a fit.” What annoyed him even more was that he did sound petulant, even to his own ears. 

“It’s none of your business, alright?”

Harry looked at him. “What’s not?”

With a huff, Draco rolled his eyes. “Why I don’t want to be spanked. Obviously.”

“I never asked you what your reasons are.”

“Yes, you did,” Draco said through clenched teeth. 

“Are you out of your mind?” Harry didn’t know if he had the patience for this. Why had he ever thought it would be a good idea to start shagging Draco Malfoy? “I asked if I could... you know.... Not _why_ you didn’t like it. I didn’t even know you didn’t like it.”

“I told you I didn’t!”

“No you... well....” He suddenly remembered that Draco had, in fact, said something of the sort during their last encounter. “Right. Fine.” He exhaled through his nose. “I’m sorry,” he forced through tightly pressed lips.

Another moment passed in which neither of them spoke, each looking around the room as if Harry’s furniture was particularly interesting. Finally, Draco got up and bent over to grab his trousers off the floor. Harry swallowed, his cock leaking as he was given a perfect view of Draco’s arse. Draco’s cheeks parted to reveal his pink arsehole, and his balls hung full and heavy between his legs. A rush of pure, raw desire hit Harry in the stomach.

“Why don’t you like it?”

Draco straightened, holding his pants and trousers in his hands. He turned to face Harry fully, and Harry’s eyes went straight to his dangling prick. It hung soft, and Harry wanted to see it harden once again.

However, Draco’s face was shielded and cold. “It’s just not something I enjoy.”

“But why not?”

Draco heaved a sigh, momentarily closing his eyes as if to renew his patience. “Potter, there are just some things - ” He stopped, his cheeks coloring. Suddenly, his eyebrows knitted together. “Fine.” With two steps, he returned to the sofa and sat down.

Harry, a bit shocked at the change, remained quiet. He waited eagerly for Draco to continue. 

“If you must know,” he said, his voice low and quiet, “I actually really do like being spanked.”

Harry felt lighter, his heart expanding in his chest. 

“Get that lopsided grin off your face, Potter.” He shifted nervously on the sofa. “If I tell you this, Potter, will you promise - and I mean _promise_ \- not to laugh or be a git?”

“Yes,” Harry said without hesitation. His insides twisted with nerves, but he was determined that Draco speak freely. The mystery was intriguing, and Harry found himself tense. 

Draco was looking down at the sofa. “My... I....” He exhaled slowly before squaring his shoulders and looking Harry straight in the eye. “Alright. When I was younger, I didn’t... please my father often.”

Harry blinked; he had a vague idea of where this was going, and it gave him an odd jumping sensation in his chest. 

Draco’s cheeks got pinker and pinker. “He was always... _expecting_ a lot of me. And I seldom managed to reach those, rather high, expectations.” He blinked rapidly and lowered his voice. “Can you guess what I am saying, Potter?”

Harry immediately shook his head. “No, not in the least. Please continue.”

Draco frowned and narrowed his eyes, but nonetheless continued. “He... he....” It seemed hard for him to state aloud; it was probably humiliating, Harry thought, his cock twitching. “He spanked me. A lot.”

Harry felt the blood in his head all rush to his cock at once. “Oh, Malfoy,” he grunted out before he could stop himself, feeling dizzy. When Draco pulled back, his body stiffening, Harry hastily added, “It’s terrible! Of course! I mean, obviously that is... that is very terrible. He should not have done that to you. Erm... what exactly was it that you _did_?” he pressed lightly. 

Thankfully, Draco appeared merely amused. Instead of storming off, he raised an eyebrow and barely smirked. “You want to know what I did to deserve spankings?”

Harry inhaled sharply. “ _Oh, God, yes._ ”

Draco’s tongue darted out to lick his bottom lip - slowly, as though he wasn’t aware that it was driving Harry mad. “My spanking aren’t something that I think back on fondly.”

“No, of course not,” Harry agreed, his cock aching. “I’m sure they were terrible for you. But....” Harry’s pulse raced. “Surely you’re... over it now?”

Draco bit his lip. “I’m not sure. It happened so frequently that I don’t think I can ever forget them.”

“You don’t say?” Harry got a mental picture of a fifteen-year-old Draco bent over his father’s knee, his pale, perky bottom thrust into the air. His cock actually twitched. 

Draco was looking at him now with a full smirk. “You see... I never seemed to get good enough grades. He seemed to think it was fair that for every class I wasn’t top in, I earned five spanks.” His grey eyes were bright. “On each side.”

“And...” Harry swallowed. “How many many classes did you get highest marks in?”

“None.”

 _Oh, Lord._ “So, you got... what is it....” Harry tries to add them up in his head, but they were a few spankings too many, and his brain became mush with images of a pink-arsed Draco.

“Usually, it was around forty.”

Harry’s mouth fell open. 

“Yes.” Draco stiffened again and looked beyond Harry’s shoulder. “They weren’t fun, Potter.”

Suddenly, Harry felt a terrible weight settle over him. A stab of guilt pierced his chest, and he berated himself for ever getting turned on by what happened to Draco. It had been a punishment, his brain reminded him. A real, scary, not-fun punishment that his father had delivered. This was clearly serious, And all Harry’s stupid cock could think about was how hot it was. But the fact was that, at a young age, Draco got spanked by his father. He was punished for what were, in Harry’s opinion, rather minor infractions that may or may not have been out of Draco’s control. Harry imagined what it would be like if he, himself, had got punished every time he had received a less-than-perfect score on an exam. It seemed cruelly unfair to be punished for not achieving the impossibility of perfection. Harry got a flash of memory of his life at the Dursley’s, and he wondered if Draco’s upbringing had been, in its own way, as humiliating and degrading as his own. 

He suddenly felt sick at the thought of his previous hard on. “I’m so sorry, Draco.”

“I didn’t tell you so that you could be sorry.”

“Well, regardless, I am.”

Draco scowled. “What are you even sorry about?”

“About pressuring you.”

A lightness passed over Draco’s face, which softened instantly before Harry’s eyes. Draco’s brow unknitted, and his mouth relaxed. His voice came out in a whisper. “I’ve tried to let others spank me... but I’ve always end up feeling ashamed.”

“We don’t have to - ”

“ _No_ , I want to.”

“You do?”

“It makes me hot to think about.”

Mouth dry, Harry licked his lips. “You’ve thought about it?” 

“Ever since you did it, yes.”

Harry’s voice came out quiet. “That was an accident.”

“It felt really good.”

“But you froze.”

“I told you, I become ashamed.”

There had to be a solution. “How about this?” Harry propositioned. “We start slow. Really slow. And you tell me when it gets even a little uncomfortable.”

Shifting on the sofa, Draco seemed uneasy. “And you’ll stop?”

“Of course.”

Draco pursed his lips. “I suppose we could give it a shot.”

Harry immediately straightened up. “Brilliant! Alright. Now... erm... why don’t you get over my lap?” Bugger, that made his cheeks flush, saying that. He gave Draco a cheeky smile.

Draco said nothing, only rolled his eyes and moved closer. Harry loved the feeling his weight on top of him, Draco’s hips resting over Harry’s knees. They shifted a bit before finding the perfect position; Harry sitting in the middle of the sofa with Draco spread over his lap. He had removed his shirt, and he was now completely naked, on top of Harry who was completely clothed. 

“Comfortable?” Harry asked.

Draco supported himself with his elbows on the cushion. “Yes.”

“Alright.” Harry finally looked down and allowed himself to appreciate what he saw. With an almost reverent sigh, he traced his palm flat over Draco’s naked bottom. He ran his hand from the top, over his the round curve of his cheeks, to the bottom. The crease where Draco’s bottom met his thighs was the perfect amount of arse for grabbing, so Harry did so with much satisfaction. 

He couldn’t help himself when his hand swatted, basically all on its own. 

“Ow.”

“Oh, sorry!”

“No, it’s okay. I wasn’t expecting it.”

Harry put a hand on Draco’s back and felt Draco’s breath hitch. Harry’s own heart raced; the sensation of having to hold Draco down was making him burn up. 

“What are you spanking me for?”

“What?” Harry’s head snapped in the direction of Draco’s, but all he could see was the back of his blond head. 

“You have to have a reason to spank me. What are we calling it?”

“Isn’t that going to fuck things up?”

Draco turned his head so that Harry could see part of his cheek. “How?”

“You said you didn’t want to feel ashamed, so I don’t want to shame you. It’s just a spanking. For no reason at all.” When Draco didn’t speak, Harry added, “It’s not a punishment.”

Draco blinked at the cushion. “Go ahead, then.” He turned back around, facing away again. 

Feeling nowhere near as dominant as he should, Harry raised his hand. He paused in mid air for only a moment before bringing it back down hard, where it smacked against one of Draco’s perky, bouncy cheeks. Draco grunted. 

That simple noise sent fire through Harry’s body. With renewed fervor, he brought his hand up ever higher than before and brought it down with force. The sound it made against Draco’s arse was like the crack of a whip, and Draco grunted more gutturally. 

Harry felt something shift against his thigh and realized, with a thrill, that Draco was hard. Fueled by the knowledge, Harry spanked him again, and again, until Draco moaned and pushed his arse out. Harry groaned and rubbed the pink areas of Draco’s cheeks. 

Suddenly, Draco wriggled and squirmed until Harry could no longer hold onto his hips. “ _Stop, stop, stop_ ,” he chanted, rolling off Harry’s lap in his haste. With a thump, he hit the floor. 

“Draco.” Harry leaned forward and attempted to touch him, but Draco shuffled away. “Did I fuck up?” Harry’s brow was so creased that it hurt. He took a deep breath and sat back.

“No, Potter,” Draco mumbled, looking away. His face and neck were bright with colour. Slowly, a frown formed on his lips; Harry had seen Malfoy angry so many times that he recognized it instantly. 

“It’s alright, Draco.”

“No, it’s not.” He got up, a fully formed sneer now painting his face. “I have to go.”

“Why?” Harry stood up and stepped toward Draco, who glared at him and stepped away. 

“I need to put my clothes on.”

“What did I do? Did I go too hard?”

“No, Potter, it’s not you.” Draco gathered his clothes quickly this time, jerking each garment up off the floor. “It’s not you,” he repeated. “It’s always me.”

“So you’re just going to leave?” Harry felt a thread of anger take hold in his chest. He found himself shaking his head. “Whatever, go.”

Draco tugged on his trousers without the pants. “I will go. I _am_ going.” He pulled his shirt on, one arm after the other, and stomped toward the front door with it still hanging unbuttoned. 

He wanted to get away that badly, Harry realized. “Fine, leave,” he shouted, clenching his fists. A sick mixture of hurt and anger spiraling inside of him, as well as the tiniest bit of embarrassment at pushing this... this... _perversion_ of his on Draco, who clearly hadn’t wanted to do it. 

He saw that Draco’s shoes were on, and Draco’s reached out his arm and touched the doorknob. 

“Wait!”

Without even pausing in action, Draco violently swirled around. “ _What_?”

“It’s my fault.” Harry marched toward Draco with the vague impression that if he crowded him against the door, Draco wouldn’t be able to open it... and then leave. “I’m sorry I made you do it. You didn’t want to.” 

Draco had to step back, the heels of his shoes bumping into the door with a thump. “The thing is, I did.” Harry thought he could detect sadness beneath the anger; Draco’s eyes gave it away. “Why do I like that shit, Potter?”

Harry shrugged. “Why do I?”

Draco’s voice was quiet, no longer sharp with frustration “It’s okay if _you’re_ messed up.”

Stricken with the urge to snicker, Harry pressed his lips together. “Why does that make me messed up?” he asked, although a small, guilty part of his brain agreed with Draco’s sentiments on the matter. 

“The truth is, it doesn’t. And that also pisses me off. You’re always so lucky.”

Harry furrowed his brows. “Er... I beg to differ.”

“It doesn’t matter if you get off on spanking; you have no reason not to. I, however... I shouldn’t like it so much. Not after all the memories....”

Harry grabbed Draco’s arms. “Shut up. You’re not fucked up. Well... you’re fucked up, but not for liking being spanked.”

Draco’s eyes narrowed. “I hate it.”

“I don’t.,” he said leaning forward, smiling and raising his eyebrows. _Damn it_ , there he went again! Making the situation sexual when it was clearly non-sexual and very important to Draco. 

“Potter,” Draco said softly. He tugged an arm free from Harry’s grip, and he clutched the back of Harry’s neck in a way that made Harry feel warm. But Draco didn’t say anything else; he just laughed. 

And although it was the same laugh as in school - a bit condescending in a way that that told the recipient that Draco was laughing _at_ him, not with him - Harry didn’t feel like punching Draco. In fact, he felt like kissing him. So he leaned in and pressed his lips to Draco’s, and the laughter stopped. 

However, the kissing continued for a long while, getting messier and more heated with each swipe of tongue against tongue. Harry soon found himself being led to his own bedroom, and then he found himself pushed onto his own bed. It was the most glorious feeling of success to have Draco in his bed. Harry also found that he truly liked having Draco there. 

So he endeavored to keep him there for the whole night... and then for the majority of the next morning. He trapped Draco with his arms and legs, pinned him down with his torso, and kissed him until Draco forgot forgot to leave until noon.

 

**The third time it happened, it was no accident at all.**

In the week that passed, Harry formulated a plan. In his head, he called it the Spanking Draco Malfoy plan, because that is what it entailed. It was the type of plan that Harry thought about long and hard, often at night between his sheets. However, if the plan were to be any good, it was his duty to flesh out every minute detail. Or so he told himself. Details such as, how exactly would he get Draco out of his trousers? Also, how many spanks would it take before Draco’s bottom turned bright pink? Incidentally, the formation of this plan made Harry feel very hot and bothered, and he often took small “breaks”, which he privately referred to as “brainstorming”.

Once he had rubbed himself raw, he decided that the plan was as good as it was ever going to get, and that it was time to put it into action. 

The knock on the door to his flat signaled Draco’s arrival. Harry smiled to himself as he put the finishing touches on dinner, an act which mainly comprised of dishing takeout onto two plates and setting them on the kitchen table. 

“It’s open,” he shouted. When he heard the clicking of the door, he turned around. “Hey, come in.”

Harry paused for a moment to drink in the sight of Draco in his trousers and thin, cashmere jumper. Years ago, he would never had imagined that seeing Draco’s slim, masculine figure would set his pulse racing like it did. 

Draco’s eyes landed on the plates, and he smirked. “Look at that.” He took slow, confident steps toward Harry and drawled, “You cooked.”

“Yup.” Harry smiled. When Draco came right up to him, Harry kept his back straight and stood his ground, not even swaying a millimeter. He wanted to be confidence, authority. “Take a seat.” 

He was actually surprised at how readily Draco complied. 

He stepped to the side to walk around Harry, and then he pulled out one of the chairs and sat down. “Are we having anything to drink with this _lovely_ meal.”

“Is there something you’d like?”

Draco’s snorted. “A glass of water will do, Potter. Unless you have alcohol, which would be better. I don’t fancy dying of thirst, either way.”

Harry smirked as he reached for the wine glasses, thinking how wonderfully this was all going to plan. “Anything else?”

“That’ll do for now, Potter.”

Harry rolled his eyes. He only owned one bottle of wine - a red, fruity Grenache - given to him by Hermione for his birthday. He figured it was as good as anything for getting Draco nice and relaxed, so he pulled it out from behind the boxes of uncooked pasta and jars of strawberry jam, dusted it off, and brought it to the table. 

“Oh, damn it.” He turned back around. “I’ve got to uncork it, haven’t I?” Pulling open the silverware drawer, he rummaged about for the wine opener. To his great relief, he found one. He had just inserted the pointed, twisty end into the cork when Draco lazily pointed his wand at the bottle. 

“ _Relashio_ ,” he drawled, and the cork popped upward, making Harry jump and gasp in surprise. At his wide-eyed look, Draco smirked.

“Oh, you think you’re clever.” Instead of sitting across the table from Draco, Harry pulled out the chair right next to him. 

“I just know what I’m doing,” Draco said, as if to suggest that Harry didn’t.

Harry merely smiled. The thin, light blue material of Draco’s jumper was clinging to his frame in ways that made Harry’s stomach twist. It was hard to keep his eyes on Draco’s while they talked through dinner. However, if Harry had to merely look at Draco’s face, then he satisfied himself with staring at Draco’s lips as they moved. How his bottom lip, full and pink, parted to let his fork in, how his tongue darted out while he listened to Harry speak, and how he pursed his lips together when Harry said something Draco disagreed with. The best thing was his smirk, the little tilt of one corner of Draco’s mouth that made Harry crazy and ready to jump him. 

Harry pushed his plate away and wiped his mouth with his napkin.

Draco stared. “Weren’t very hungry?” His eyes were on the half-full plate of food. 

“I’m done.” Harry rose from his seat. “Get up.”

Raising an eyebrow, Draco looked at Harry as if he had said something insulting. “Why?”

“Because I told you to.” Harry took a step forward until his chest was level with Draco’s face, and he placed his hand flat on the table next to Draco’s plate. Draco had no choice but to tilt his head back and look up at Harry. A sharp thrill of power ran up Harry’s spine .

Luckily, Draco seemed to catch on, because his eyes widened. His voice was little more than a whisper, testing the game. “And I can’t argue with my superiors.”

Something sparked in Harry’s chest. “That’s right. I’ve had enough of your mouth tonight.” Harry tried very hard to suppress the smile pulling at his lips. He kept his features controlled, cold veering on angry - much like he looked when speaking with perpetrators in the Ministry’s interrogation rooms. “And I gave you a command.”

“Right.” Draco slowly rose from his seat. “Of course, Sir.”

“I want you naked.”

Draco’s eyes flashed, and he wasted no time in stripping himself of his clothes. He peeled off his jumper, exposing his flat stomach and lightly toned chest. Harry wanted to lean in and lick the line of blond hair that trailed below Draco’s navel. Draco gripped the waistline of his trousers, which got caught for a moment around the swell of his bum. Harry loved how tight Draco bought his trousers. 

When Draco stood before him, fully naked, cock jutting forward, Harry’s throat was so dry he thought he wouldn’t be able to speak. He admired Draco’s body, letting his eyes roam - over Draco’s biceps, his hip bone, the course hair around his cock - until Draco squirmed uncomfortably under his gaze. 

Harry decided he wanted to be just as naked and feel Draco’s skin against his own. When he had stripped, he pulled out the chair that Draco had been sitting in. Turning it to face away from the table, Harry sat down.

He patted his thigh. “Over my lap.”

Draco stared wide-eyed at Harry’s cock, and Harry smiled. 

“Draco.” Control, authority, firmness. “Come here and lie over my lap.”

Draco blinked and looked up at him. Licking his lips, he enunciated his words lazily. “Yes, Sir.”

Harry realized he hadn’t truly thought out how maddening this position would be. He hadn’t anticipated the press of his shaft against the warm, soft skin of Draco’s naked stomach; nor had be truly imagined, with any semblance of justice, the vision of Draco’s bare arse presented plainly, right in Harry’s lap.

“Spread your legs more.” 

Draco hesitated, but his thighs slowly parted to reveal his balls. 

“More.” Harry gripped Draco’s leg, the skin of his inner thigh soft against Harry’s fingers. 

Draco’s breath hitched, but he spread his legs even further. This time, his arse cheeks parted, and Harry could see Draco’s arsehole clearly. 

“That’s the way.” Harry’s voice came out gritty; his throat suddenly felt very dry. “Nice and spread out and exposed.” His breath came out harshly as he spoke, and he felt Draco’s fingers squeezing his ankle. “I want to see all of this, right here.” With three fingers, he lightly traced the dark pink skin between Draco’s arse cheeks down to his balls. 

Draco let out a whine, and Harry felt the heat of his cock against his thigh. He wondered if Draco could feel his own cock filling and hardening against his naked stomach. 

Harry held Draco’s balls in his palm, weighing them in his hand, caressing them tenderly. He spoke slowly and clearly, making sure that Draco caught every word. “I love looking at you and seeing _everything_.” At that word, he squeezed Draco’s sack in his fist, and Draco moaned rather pathetically. 

Without warning, Harry released his grip and brought his hand up into the air. He swung it down with force and hit Draco across one, full arse cheek. Draco yelled and jerked forward, rubbing his erection into Harry’s leg. The slap sounded like a cracking whip, and it sent shivers down Harry’s spine. When Harry removed his hand, he saw Draco’s skin rapidly fill with color at the spot where he had spanked him. 

Harry bit his lip. The vision was almost too much, and he worried he would come just from _looking._ “Draco, do you know how you look right now?”

Without a word, Draco shook his head.

“Keep your legs spread,” Harry reminded him, and Draco quickly corrected his posture. “You look so _open_.” Harry spanked him again. “And _exposed_.” He spanked the other cheek. “I can see your tight,” _spank_ , “fucking,” _spank_ , “hole,” _spank_.

Draco moaned with each spank. Harry wanted to get off rubbing himself against Draco’s stomach, slick with Harry’s precome. But then Draco arched his spine, lifting his arse into the air.

“Oh, you want more?”Harry spanked his arse one more time, and Draco grunted. “Think you can handle more? What about _here_?” He slapped the inside of Draco’s thigh, and Draco flinched. “No? Not there? What about _here_?” Draco’s other thigh. “Or what about _here_ , huh Draco?” 

Harry brought the flat of his palm down over Draco’s round balls, and Draco moaned loudly, his face pressed into Harry’s leg. 

Harry couldn’t stop. It was like he was possessed with a fire that started in his gut; a burning desire to punish Draco in the most embarrassing places. First his balls, with soft, little taps; then the tender skin between his cheeks, much harder and with more snap in his wrist; then back and forth between the two. Draco’s balls were soft against Harry’s hand, and they moved in the most satisfying way when Harry’s fingers touched them.

“You’ve been _bad_ , Draco. And _every_ bad _boy_ deserves _this_.”

Draco was half moaning, half chanting, “Yes.” He kept his legs spread wide and his arse held high, the sight of which drove Harry wild. 

Eventually, Harry realized he wasn’t even spanking anymore; he was just humping Draco’s stomach, and Draco was humping his leg. They took up a strange twisting and rubbing motion, but Harry thought it was the perfect rhythm. Both their groans filled the air around Harry, and he felt dizzy with heat.

Out of pure instinct, he pressed one finger against Draco’s rim, rubbing his finger in circles around the hole. He found Draco winding his hips into it, and Harry pressed the finger in further. The tight clenching of Draco’s arse was hard to breach, and Harry imagined his cock would do a much better job of it. With a strangled moan, he felt his balls draw up, and he held Draco’s back down with his other hand as he came. There was a hot, wet sensation against his leg, and he knew Draco had just come as well. 

“Oh, bloody hell,” Harry sighed. He felt boneless against the chair. His hand stroked Draco’s pinkened behind. 

Draco was very still, and Harry’s chest suddenly felt tight with panic. 

“Draco?” He stared at the back of Draco’s blond head, which still hung by his ankles. “Are you... are you alright?”

Draco craned his neck back to look at Harry, and Harry exhaled. A huge smile painted Draco’s face. “Brilliant. I’m much more than alright, Potter.” He rolled off Harry’s lap and got back onto it, straddling Harry’s legs. With his face pressed into the crook of Harry’s neck, his voice became muffled and soft. “What a bloody relief.” 

Harry stroked his back, tracing the muscles and lines there. He wondered if his heart would ever stop beating this hard around Draco.

**Author's Note:**

> Contact me on tumblr: [@heyitsamorette](https://heyitsamorette.tumblr.com/)


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